


Into Focus

by Chiauve



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, STARS Era, Wesker has to deal with feelings, he hates it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28914828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiauve/pseuds/Chiauve
Summary: Driven by curiosity, Wesker decides to track down Anna Muller and the supposed child she bore. Far more important, he intends to uncover whatever secrets and plans Umbrella has in regards to him, and if he needs to use his own offspring as bait to do so, then so be it.
Relationships: Jake Muller's Mother/Albert Wesker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Into Focus

There was no reason to hold on to the scrap of paper Anna left behind, and yet Albert Wesker still had it. He didn’t know why. Her departure had been sudden, yes, but in truth he’d begun to grow bored with the relationship, her figure dulled in his mind, so her ending it of her own volition by way of leaving spared him an annoying breakup. There was no reason to even think of her all these years later.

He’d been between missions at the time, stuck in a desk job at one of Umbrella’s front businesses, and when he came home Anna and her things were gone, save a letter left in the drawer of his night table. Why there and not out in the open was another unknown.

The letter was in her usual saccharine style, she could write English better than she could speak it, saying how much she loved him and wanted to be with him in such purple prose she should have become a harlequin novelist. He would have tossed it if that was all it offered, but it was the next part that held his interest.

Her reason for leaving, despite such love, was that people from Umbrella had shown up and threatened her, suggesting she leave, even offering her the plane ticket for her troubles. Anna then continued, saying she would have stayed anyway, would have stood with him against anything, except…

_…but I can’t risk our baby._

She would hold him to nothing, he was free to do as he wished, but if he wanted to find her, she left directions for where she would most likely be in Edonia.

It was a lie. Of course it was. He’d been careful…most of the time. She left and was hoping that, in some fit of emotion (Terror? Elation? Hell if he knew) he’d come chasing after her to Edonia. He’d find no child but she’d try to convince him there _could_ be, if he married her, got her citizenship…

Fortunately he had no want of offspring.

_…can’t risk our baby._

But what if there was some truth to it? What if Umbrella had indeed suggested she leave? Had it been such a thing as an expired green card or some other immigration issue she would have come to him, she always had before. The only reason she had that card was because of him. If she lost interest in him then why entice him with a false child narrative? There was no other reason she would have fled.

And if it was Umbrella, that was something in which Wesker was very interested. As deep as Wesker was in Umbrella, it was a lifelong career choice, it was a secretive organization with grand plans even hidden from him, and yet despite that it stayed out of his personal life, so long as he kept that personal life out of Umbrella. Why the sudden interest in Annika Muller? More specifically her relationship with him?

Had she discovered something they would have killed her, and then punished Wesker for being lax in his security. He checked the flight manifests and she had indeed boarded the plane and returned home, so they let her go. Anna had nothing on Umbrella but they sent her away and said nothing to Wesker about it. Umbrella wanted her away from him.

Why? What did Umbrella know about him? More importantly, what did they know that he didn’t.

_…our baby._

It haunted him. Because there was a chance she wasn’t lying. While women were generally manipulative creatures, Anna had been open and even naive in regards to him; lying for attention hadn’t been her way. What if she wasn’t lying?

What if he had offspring? A child, his own.

He mulled the idea over in his mind, over and over. He found he still didn’t care.

He should, he thought. While he did not want children, the passing of one’s genes was priority in all living beings, the only immortality one had. The thought that there possibly was a child carrying his genetic legacy should cause some form of emotion. Pride? Relief? Worry for it? Shouldn’t there be some part of him designed by millions of years of evolution to want to protect that legacy by way of ensuring the child survived? Or at least increase the chance of survival by making more of them, but Wesker had never been one for casual partners.

He’d never been one for serious partners either. Annika was the first, and even that had been more of an experiment than driven by any need for companionship.

It was all Birkin’s fault, really. Despite his claim of dedication, of his obsession, he still managed to not only catch the attention of Annette, but hold her to him. It was a strange union, held together with what people like himself and Birkin could only pretend was love, and Wesker waited for it to fall apart. But it didn’t; Annette was as lost in Umbrella and its tantalizing secrets as they were, and embraced the approximation of love she and William managed. Through work, they were joined, and joined they stayed. They even had a daughter.

Wesker did not consider himself a jealous man, nor the situation one to be jealous about, but he was certainly a curious one. How had William Birkin, of all people, managed to form a relationship and hold it? Why would he want to? Perhaps there was something indeed to look into in the manner of the so-called fairer sex.

Wesker didn’t go out and actively look for a partner, and he wasn’t looking when he met Anna. A young foreign woman, down on her luck and in need of help. He’d picked her up on the side of the road, hitchhiking of all things, and this reminder of his own youth made him stop for her. Curiosity, nothing more. She didn’t have a destination, just to get away, so he took her home. Let her stay. Didn’t ask questions on how she ended up near penniless in America. She repaid him by way of looking after him, cooking for him, cleaning, doing his laundry. Considering his work schedule he found this beneficial.

Anna was also the one who made the first move. He had made no mention of wanting her, hadn’t even considered it. Then she kissed him, and it was only then he realized she was an attractive woman, a soft face, tumbling red hair, lithe body, and bright eyes that looked at him with nothing but adoration.

And, oh, did that adoration go beyond her gaze. How she opened herself to him, touched him, loved him, practically worshiped him in whispers as he thrust into her.

It was an enjoyable time, he had to admit. He got her the needed paperwork and green card, almost expecting her to disappear soon after, but she stayed. And Anna wanted more than just a home and sex, she practically dragged him out when he had the time and they would run amok in town, drinking and laughing and then would stumble back to his jeep and fuck in the back.

She was bright in is visage then, sharp in focus and full of color, but after a time she began to dull as Wesker’s interest waned. The newness of it all faded and to him it became more of the same, her wants more intrusive, her needs a nag. She was fading out of his focus by the time she disappeared, leaving nothing but a sappy note of love and a possible child.

Good riddance. End it all before it became a drudgery. Toss the note and move on.

Yet he still had this sorry piece of paper. Still had this reminder of possible offspring.

He could have a child out there. A possible son, a possible daughter.

Why didn’t he care?

He should. Those were his genes, his legacy.

And there was the matter of Umbrella interfering with it all. Why?

“Wesker? Captain!”

He started out of his thoughts and looked up at Redfield, gazing at him in both amusement and concern.

“Sorry, but you were out of it,” Chris said, “Need a nap? If you go crash on the couch outside the break room you know none of us would say anything.”

“I’m fine,” Wesker grumbled, “What do you need?”

Chris handed him a sheaf of papers, “The report on yesterday’s drug bust.”

“Yes, good. Thank you, Chris.”

“You sure you’re okay? I had to call you three times.”

“Just thinking…”

“I could tell. Look, you’ve been working hard these past couple of weeks, why don’t you head home early? Barry’ll cover for you.”

Wesker was about to dismiss that idea, send Chris back to his desk to pretend to work, but a worn slip of paper continued to flit through his brain, a location scribbled at its end just above a hastily written _I love you_.

“Actually,” Wesker said, slow as the idea formed, “What I really think I need is a vacation.”


End file.
